


His Mark

by inkwells_writing



Series: Taste This [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i mean they have a fight so yeah? hurt comfort i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwells_writing/pseuds/inkwells_writing
Summary: Alfred begins to have doubts, but Arthur just isn’t listening to him.(a sequel to Taste This, but I'm pretty sure that one doesn't need to be read to understand this one)





	His Mark

“Hey, Arthur?” Alfred asked between kisses. The Queen hummed in acknowledgement. Alfred continued, “I’ve got a question.”

Arthur pulled away reluctantly, “What is it, my knight?” 

Alfred felt himself begin to grin, but it was dampened by his thoughts. He and the Queen had been doing this arrangement ( _affair_ , his evil mind supplied) for two months, and Alfred felt guilty. The Queen was going to have an unbreakable bond with his King, once the person was found, and Alfred didn’t want to have to watch it happen, or even worse, get in the way of it.

“What are you, are we, going to do when the King is found?” 

As he spoke, Arthur rolled his eyes and kissed him again, “I’ll have less work.”

Alfred felt himself frown and he tried to push the Queen off of him, “No, like, with your bond. You’re going to love them, won’t it be awkward to see me everyday and-”

“Alfred, dear,” Arthur began, “I’ve told you this numerous times before, the bond isn’t always romantic. The last Queen and King had a bond that was like two brothers. Look at the Diamonds- Francis takes on many suitors and the Queen is fine with it.”

Arthur leaned up to kiss Alfred again, but Alfred kept his grip on the Queen’s shoulders firm, “The Queen of Diamonds is only sixteen. Of course their bond isn’t powerful yet.” Alfred responded with the same thing he always did. 

“As much as I despise doing so, I have spoken to the King of Diamonds numerous times and he hasn’t expressed anything but a sibling bond with his Queen.” Arthur said as he ran his gloved hand across Alfred’s shirt. 

Alfred was still uncomfortable with the idea of the Sort marking the King. He wanted one of course, as Arthur often overworked himself, but the thought- the possibility- that Arthur’s bond with the King would be romantic had begun to eat away at him, and Arthur’s answers never fully sated that fear. “My Queen, I still don’t like the-”

Arthur cut him off, “I told you not to call me that, Alfred.” Arthur pried one of Alfred’s hands off his shoulder and brought it up to kiss, “Please, call me Arthur. It’s too formal otherwise.”

Alfred’s brows furrowed, “Maybe it should be more formal.”

“Alfred-”

“No, My Queen, I don’t think it’s smart to be together like this when you have your King out there, waiting for their mark to appear.” Alfred said, before stepping away from Arthur.

“Alfred, I already told you, the bond doesn’t have to be romantic.”

“But what if it is?” Alfred raised his voice. 

“Alfred, really, there is no reason for you to be thinking thi -”

“Your Majesty, please, listen to me for once!”

“Alfred, dear, I am,” Arthur began, “I just don’t see why you are so worried about this.” Arthur raised his hand to cup Alfred’s cheek.

“I have a right to be worried. This _thing_ we are doing isn’t… it’s not right.”

“Alfred, you’re being silly.”

Alfred stepped out of Arthur’s grip and held his hands behind his back, almost standing in the pose of soldiers on guard, “I don’t think this should continue.”

Alfred felt his voice catch as he voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks. The thought of Arthur _with_ someone pained him, but no matter the reassurances being given to him, Alfred just knew Arthur would fall in love with his King. 

“I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of the bond.”

“Your Majesty-”

Arthur stepped forward and kissed Alfred, “Come on, love, forget about it, and ju-”

“No, I’m going to my chambers, your Majesty. Apologies, but I refuse to do this anymore and I do not wish to have my worries ignored.” Alfred said as he turned away. He heard Arthur calling for him to wait, but he ignored it. 

Alfred didn’t want to, though. He wanted to go back in there and believe Arthur when he said the bond probably won’t be romantic. He wanted to go in there and apologize. He wanted to have never accepted the position of watching over the Queen’s dinners. But none of that happened.

None of that _could_ happen.

Instead, he went to the Captain of the Guard and requested a shift replacement. He had no intentions of getting in the way of the Queen and the future King. It wouldn’t be right.

Alfred may be a bad person, but at least he could say he wasn’t selfish. 

 

 _That stupid, selfish knight!_ Arthur wanted to scream. He couldn’t of course. He was sitting in the dining room, trying not to hate the knight who, as he had quickly asked, replaced Alfred when Alfred went to the Captain and requested a shift change. 

Arthur didn’t know why Alfred would request a shift change. It was as if he didn’t want to give Arthur an easy chance to apologize. 

So, alright, maybe he had brushed Alfred’s feelings off. Maybe he hadn’t taken his concerns seriously. Maybe last night he had been concerned with being _with_ Alfred than being with him. 

Maybe Arthur was being the stupid, selfish one. 

But none of that mattered.

All that mattered was now Arthur would have to hunt down Alfred himself and apologize, so things could go back to how they were supposed to be. 

And yet, that beautiful (and idiotic) knight had to make things difficult. 

When Arthur approached the Captain of the Guards, he was told that the soldier’s training was not to be disturbed until they had finished breaking in the new recruits. Apparently, the prospect of having the Queen watch them was too intimidating. 

When Arthur tried to wander the gardens in hope of catching Alfred on patrol, Yao hunted him down and dragged him back to his work (that, yes, he had been neglecting. He simply had more important things to be focusing on). 

So Arthur went back to his work, always keeping an eye on his window that aimed out at the gardens. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the guards on patrol. Every time he passed a guard in the halls, he did a double take, desperately hoping one of them would have the blonde hair and blue eyes he had grown to adore. 

But Alfred, the same man who he always seemed to ‘accidentally’ run into when they were together, seemed to have disappeared. 

A few weeks after Alfred had walked out, that thought crossed his mind. A sharp fear laced through him at the prospect of Alfred being so angry and disgusted with his actions that he left the castle had propelled him to the Captain of the Guards. He had asked the man if any knights has recently transferred out of resigned. 

The relief he felt when the Captain answered no was indescribable. 

The feeling scared him, a little.

Arthur had never thought much of his time with Alfred beside the more… intimate parts. And as he sat, alone, in his study, he soon grew to miss the man’s laugh and his pleasant conversation he would make at dinner. He looked around his room, feeling colder than usual, and sighed.

There had to be something he could do to tell Alfred he was sorry for his actions. 

Just as Arthur began to rise from his chair to finally hunt down Alfred, his Jack burst into the room.

Arthur was startled, and scared. Yao was always calm, and the look of pure joy on his face was unusual. “What is it, Yao?”

The man began to rush, “One of the knights, during a fitting for the formal uniforms for the Spade’s Ball, the mark was found. On his chest!”

Arthur’s breath left him, “The King’s mark?”

“Yes!”

Arthur had expected himself to feel excited, but he wasn’t. As Yao began to walk him to the new King, Arthur could only worry. What if, despite Arthur’s belief, Alfred’s fears were right and the Bond wasn’t platonic. Arthur didn’t want that with anyone other than Alfred, and that scared him.

 

Alfred was annoyed. He had been in a sour mood for weeks (one he couldn’t even tell his friends the source of) and now he was going to have to sit through a fitting. He always hated them. It was just hours and hours of standing up straight with your arms out, getting poked and decorated with pretty blue cloth. 

And they always did the pants first. That part really sucked. It was awkward, to say the least.

Alfred made an attempt to start a conversation, but a quick annoyed look from the man shut him up quickly. 

He grew bored quickly, and his thoughts kept straying to the ball he was getting dressed up for. 

The Spade’s Ball, held every four years in November, celebrated the strength and beauty of the nation. The Suits from the other three kingdoms would be in attendance, and although Alfred knew he should be excited to be a part of such a grand celebration, he was angry.

And annoyed. And uncomfortable (mostly the pins that were sticking into the clothing). And a little sickened. Arthur, Queen Arthur, would be in attendance. Alfred wouldn't be able to avoid him there. Nor would he be able to do anything but watch as Arthur danced and talked and laughed with other people, other royalty and nobles. 

And Alfred would be just another palace guard. 

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Alfred blinked back into the moment, “Uh, sorry. What did you say?”

The man rolled his eyes and muttered what sounded like “Idiot.” Alfred set his jaw but didn’t say anything. No need to make more people mad at him. 

“I said, take your shirt off. I need to get your chest measurements. For your uniform.” The man spoke as if he was speaking to a child.

Alfred glared as he quickly took off his jacket, then his shirt. 

A loud and startled gasp made him look at the tailor, who quickly dropped himself into a low bow, “Your- Your Majesty, please, forgive me.” 

Alfred blinked, but he turned to look into the mirrors behind him. He gasped as well, bringing a hand up to brush the mark that had appeared on his chest.

A beautiful spade, surrounded by leaves and swirls and elegant lines. Alfred would never be able to properly describe it. On his chest, as well, and although it was hard to believe, that meant he, of all the citizens in Spades, was to be king. 

The thought of his made him fall to his knees, his shirt still in one hand, the other tracing over the mark. A spark left his fingertips when he pressed too hard. 

Of all the overwhelming thoughts that crossed his mind, a name burned at the forefront.

_Arthur._

 

Arthur let himself be dragged across the castle. He began to think of all the knights who would be attending the ball, and Arthur kept thinking of Alfred.

But the Sort wouldn’t be that kind to him, would it?

Yao finally slowed to a stop from his half-jog. The stood in front of a door, a nervous tailor standing outside of it. He began to rambled, a half-apology, but Arthur wasn’t listening. 

It was customary for the highest ranking suit to meet the new one first, and Arthur was steeling himself for the disappointment of meeting a King that wasn’t the one he had slowly began to want. 

Yao stepped away from the door, sending the tailor away, and gave a quiet, “Go on in,” to Arthur. 

Arthur breathed deeply and did so.

He pushed the door open, his eyes immediately pulled to the half-naked form kneeling in front of some mirrors. He stepped forward, shutting the door behind him with a click. He took in the bare back, littered with a few scars here and there, and Arthur felt his breath catch. 

He knew that back, as strange as it sounded. And as the person turned their head to see who had entered the room, Arthur’s ears began to buzz.

He couldn’t believe that it was Alfred sitting there. Alfred, with his once blank chest adored with the most amazing mark. Alfred, who was to be his King. _Alfred, who he was to grow a bond with like no other._

He felt himself begin to laugh, as he took a shaky step. Alfred looked nervous as Arthur laughed.

“Alfred, I can’t believe it’s _you_.”

“Yeah,” Alfred whispered, “It’s me.”

Arthur couldn’t help himself. He launched himself forward, barreling into Alfred, wrapping his arms around him. He held him for a second, before pulling away and cupping his face, “I should apologize,” He began. 

Alfred looked at him with wonder as he brought up his own hands to cup Arthur’s face. As he felt Alfred move his thumb, he noticed the man was wiping away a tear, “What are you apologizing for, Arthur?”

“I lied to you, earlier.”

Alfred froze, and Arthur could _feel_ the man’s nervousness. The burning in his upper back increased, and Arthur once again felt a wave of happiness go through him that this was the man who was connected to him through their marks. 

“I lied when I said my bond with the King would be anything other than romantic.”

Alfred took in a shuddering breath before he pulled Arthur forward, practically slamming their faces together in a kiss.

Arthur pulled Alfred down, down, and Arthur felt like he was drowning but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him anymore except the man in his arms. 

Nothing could ever compare to the importance of the man who was kissing Arthur senseless. And Arthur was perfectly fine with that.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope yall liked this!! please comment and give kudos if you did!!  
> im on tumblr @inkwells-writing if you want to follow!


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